Page 153 of The Mortal Trials

The death deity drapes the necklace over August’s head.

In a voice that’s young and old, sharp and rusted, with form and disembodied, he addresses Ares. “I claim August Aymes as my champion.”

August’s clothing changes. The white doesn’t just seep into new colors; it transforms entirely in a brilliant flash of light. His long-sleeved shirt and shorts are gone. His chest is bare, except for Mictlantecuhtli’s gift. Gold bands and bright braided fabric encircle his biceps. The loincloth he wears is the cool shade of the pines surrounding his home. At his waist is a gold disc depicting a skull.

I gasp when radiance overtakes me and my ivory gown is replaced with an ensemble worthy of Mexica royalty. Draping heavily behind me, a skirt boasting layers upon layers of feathers to match the ones in my hair. My cropped shirt is red, trimmed in vivid green and sapphire. Gold cuffs my biceps, and my grandmother’s necklace is joined by a cascade of jade beads that fall in waves over my chest.

An image of August overtakes Carina’s angry face. He strums his guitar and his voice, his song pours over the mortals watching from all around us. Mortals that begin to sing with him. They know every word by heart. The chorus of ‘Unsung Hero’ spreads until I can almost hear it echo from the realms. Hero.

August turns a circle, watching the crowd sing like he can’t believe this is real.

I take a step toward him noticing something heavy pressing against my hipbone. An obsidian knife with a carved jadeite handle is tucked where my shard had been, the blade sharp and thick. In the dark glass is the promise of death.

Quetzalcoatl didn’t take my spear. He left my fingers curled around the handle. And I vow to him, my sister, and the universe…

When I find a way to kill Ares, it will be with this.

My eyes and fury flick to Ares, and I burst out laughing.

Because the Greek god of war, the deity who has caused my family and so many others mountains of grief, looks like he might piss himself.

THE END